Page 17 of Campus Fake

She finally turned to look at me, and the devastation in her eyes nearly brought me to my knees. This wasn’t the confident, sharp-tongued woman I’d fallen for. This was someone drowning, and I was the only lifeline in reach.

“I can’t do this, Harry.” Her voice cracked on my name. “I thought I could, but I can’t. They can’t even look at me. My own parents can’t—” She broke off, pressing her hands to her eyes as if covering them would stop the tears that were coming.

I crossed the room in two strides and pulled her into my arms.

She didn’t fight it. For once, she didn’t put up walls or deflect with humor or pretend everything was okay. She just collapsed against my chest, her fingers fisting in the back of my shirt, and let me hold her.

I tightened my grip, holding her tight like I could take whatever pain was tearing her apart and carry it myself. But all I could do was stand here and hold her. I’d never felt so helpless.

I pressed my lips to the top of her head and held on tight.

I didn’t know what kind of minefield I’d walked into, but two things were becoming painfully clear—Jordan had ambushed his own family with Sam’s visit. And Sally Lowe had not wanted her daughter here at all.

SEVEN

Minutes passed while we stood there in her childhood bedroom surrounded by relics of a life I knew nothing about, and I let her fall apart in my arms. I didn’t say anything—didn’t try to fix it or offer empty platitudes. I just held on and let her know she wasn’t alone.

Eventually, her breathing evened out. The death grip she had on the back of my shirt loosened, and she pulled back just enough to swipe at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“Sorry,” she muttered, not meeting my gaze.

“Don’t.” I caught her chin gently, tilting her face up until those red-rimmed blue eyes met mine. “Don’t ever apologize for being human.”

She let out a shaky laugh. “Is that what we’re calling my breakdown?”

She moved to step away, and I reluctantly let her go. The distance felt wrong after finally getting to hold her so close, but if space was what she needed right now, then I’d give it to her.

My gaze swept around the room again, taking in the details I’d first noticed when we walked in. I walked over to the nearest shelf of trophies.

“You were a figure skater.”

It wasn’t a question. The evidence was right in front of me, impossible to deny.

Impossible for her to deny.

“Not anymore.” Her voice was flat. Empty. “That was a long time ago.”

I could’ve sworn I heard her whisper “another lifetime” under her breath.

I turned back to look at her and found her sitting on the edge of the bed, a picture frame clutched in her hands. Her eyes had gone glassy again, but she wasn’t crying. She looked broken in a way I’d never imagined was possible for her.

She was always so bright, but it was becoming clear there were ghosts here that she’d been avoiding.

I crossed the room and sat down beside her, close enough that our arms almost touched but not quite. Close enough to remind her I was here without crowding her.

She needed quiet strength right now. Not questions. She’d tell me when she was ready.

The silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that said more than words could—the kind that acknowledged pain without trying to minimize it.

After a few minutes, she leaned her head against my shoulder.

My chest tightened at the gesture. I was quickly growing addicted to her leaning on me. I wished she’d let me carry more of the weight she’d been hiding from us. I wondered if Abby even knew about what was going on here.

As she leaned against me, I took the chance to look at the photo in her hand.

Four kids stood in a row, laughing at the camera with ice cream cones dripping in the summer heat. Sam was easy to spot as the only girl. She looked to be maybe thirteen or fourteen but with that same bright smile that could light up a room. Jordan was next to her, lanky and awkward in the way teenage boys often were. Eric stood beside him, Jordan’s arm draped over his shoulders. The third boy stood on Sam’s other side. He looked younger than Jordan but older than Sam with the same blond hair and blue eyes. His smile was the widest of them all.

This must be the brother I hadn’t met yet.